


Wild Creatures like to Hunt

by SerpentPrince



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Banter, Late Night Writing, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 12:06:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2731850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerpentPrince/pseuds/SerpentPrince
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Herald goes missing one afternoon and during the chaos, Dorian thinks about the wild elf.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wild Creatures like to Hunt

**Author's Note:**

> This is just pretty much a Drabble. I'm obsessed with this stupid great game and stupid amazing moustache men so that's all I've been writing about.  
> This drabble is just me trying to get a feel for writing Dorian because even though I am like him personality-wise he is still a new character for me to write for.  
> I'm not the happiest how this turned, but this is as good as this one is going to get.

It was another day in Haven and just like every other day in Haven, it was ridiculously cold.

Dorian was huddled close to a little magic fire within the house (more like hut) that he was permitted to use. Ferelden was always miserably frozen and it was even colder in the mountainous region Haven was in. He had no idea why people decided that this region was a good place to live. The Tevinter Mage found it difficult to adapt and was baffled by how some people only wore three layers of clothing when doing their daily errands.

He could hear some people stomping around with some urgency, but he ignored it until it seemed like the entire camp was in an uproar. With a sigh he arose and put out the flames of his small indoor fire.

When he opened the door he was surprised by the chaos that reined. Soldiers and citizens seemed to be checking every house, every corner, every snowdrift, for something that was extremely important by the urgency in their movements.

"He's not in any of the houses here!" A soldier shouted out.

Another one bellowed, "The Herald isn't here either!"

So it was the herald that went missing, Dorian supposed that the elf and his marked hand leaving would cause concern, though he doubted Lavellan would leave, perhaps there was signs of kidnapping?

Dorian could feel a little bit of worry well up in his chest; he may have just met the elf, but being sent into the future and watching the world fall apart while making witty banter did make people grow familiar.

"Soldier!" One of the armed warriors turned her attention to him; they were trained to hear curt orders like mabari.

"What is the situation?" 

"T-the herald has gone missing," By a slight stutter in her tone, Dorian assumed she knew that she was talking to the big bad Tevinter Mage. "-the whole camp as been searched and now the wilds are being searched as well."

"Hmph," Dorian sent away the soldier with a noise and after putting on some thicker armour (he didn't want frostbite on his exposed shoulder) he started to wander the camp.

He was surprised that the Herald only just left now; he had seen the almost dreamy look on the elf's tattooed face every time he looked out into the trees or the way he appeared so much more alive within the forests of the Hinterlands than ever in the many rooms of the chantry. Or perhaps he was the only one who watched the elf so intently.

He talked to the elf often, mostly talking about himself, but he managed to get a little information by the elf's past. He was an forest elf, called a dalish and sometimes called a elven savage depending on who you were talking too. And by his little tells, the mage picked up that the elf was baffled by humans and disliked many things about them such as blind fatefulness to the chantry. Dorian gathered that information in the way the elf would shy away when humans approached him and when anything related to Andraste and him being her herald came up, his lips would curl and his nose would wrinkle before he hide away the quirks with polite words and strained smiles. The elf was fully aware of his standing and the fact the people could easily turn on him.

Dorian was convinced that the elf hated them all; the elf talked to them constantly, keeping a civil tone and nothing more the entire time. He revealed barely anything of his self and his smiles were often tight and practiced.

The only time his eyes brightened and his smiles were genuine was when speaking elvish with someone else and underneath the thick boughs of trees, far away from any human settlement.

Dorian wondered if any of the others felt anything toward keeping a wild creature constantly caged and watched; did they feel sympathy or did they even notice? It was a curious thought.

Dorian did feel some sympathy toward the elf, he was trapped in a future that he didn't desire and forced to wear a non-literal mask the entire time. Just like Dorian was in Tevinter; the different was that the elf hadn't tried to leave. They were somewhat alike and that created some interest for Dorian.

He continued walking around the camp, it was pretty empty now, the soldiers were now off combing the surroundings and some civilians looked to have left with then. He walked at an leisurely pace to the entrance only to see a very familiar hooded figure walking toward the gate at the same lazy speed.

"Herald?!" The elf was struggling under the weight of ram and a couple of rabbits. Dorian just watched, the animals were bleeding and probably covered in their own feces (like most animals) and he didn't want to get dirty.

As the elf got closer, Dorian saw something new in his yellow eyes. They glittered with joy and when the elf spoke, his smile wasn't strained, it was roguish and sharp toothed. "Are you not going to help?"

Dorian supposed he could take a bath; it was worth it for the pretty little elf; he took the pair of rabbits from the herald's bloody hands. "I presume you know that Cassandra sent the whole army to hunt you down."

"I know, they both walk and talk loudly. They also seem to believe I can't climb trees." The elf seemed to revel in the chaos he caused. "I tested the soldiers ability, a tree ambush would wipe them all out."

Dorian still had a suspicion that the elf was testing the waters for a grand escape from responsibility. "The woman is furious, you may want to wait awhile," the human gave some helpful advice in a teasing tone.

"Waiting won't do a thing, she'll be mad whatever I do." Dorian didn't feel like mentioning the secret crush that the strong woman was harbouring for the elf, it was the most obvious thing being that a few words from the elf's mouth could calm the woman down with only minimal casualties.

"I think you'll be fine," the Mage believed what he said. He remembered a time where caught he caught that woman examining the merchandise. He remembered how red the woman's face went when he gave her a knowing glance, but he couldn't blame her, most of the party had done the same, himself included. "Did you really just sneak out to hunt?" The elf was always leading the group so staring at his backside was really unavoidable.

"I did, I would prefer wild meat than anything you humans provide or make." He wasn't as handsome as Dorian, (no one was or ever could be) but he was close in a wild, elfy way.

"Ouch, that pains me deeply" Dorian feigned hurt and the elf's lips curled into a smile.

"You complain about the food all the time." It was hard to think of anything amazingly witty when the elf's piercing inhuman yellow eyes were focused on him.

"You got me there." The elf was ether easy to banter with. "Are your going to eat all that meat? By the size of your waist it looks like you wouldn't be able to handle more than a few bites!" If only he wasn't so guarded; having the elf verbally dance around anything that could be taken as even the slightest bit offensive was dull.

"Examining my body were you?" The elf gave a teasing grin; he often put people off balance with his casual flirting, it seemed to have become a game to him. Dorian liked to think he was winning by not being fazed as the others. (Cullen was losing by far, each time the elf came onto the man he turned into a stuttering hot mess)

"I happen to eat well." The Tevinter Mage doubted that, the elven Mage ate like a bird on their travels and was the skinniest thing. Solas even had more muscle on him. "So you're just going to roast them?"

"I'm going to skin them, cook some, dry some and give some of the leftovers to the kitchen." The elf seemed excited by those horrible sounding tasks.

"That sounds exhausting and messy," Dorian couldn't never do that; mostly because he would never want to. He could imagine the bloody mess the elf would make and get all over his hands.

"Ah, I forgot that humans have a hierarchy for tasks. I am still baffled that the higher ranking shemlen don't know had to take care of their base needs," the herald's words were serious, but his tone was teasing.

"That's rude, I can take care of my base needs."

"If you were left alone in the forest you would starve." The elf was probably right, but Dorian wasn't going to admit that to him.

"You don't know that." 

"Or the wolves would stalk you until you were weakened, then strike."

"You are a pessimist, herald."

"Is that another made up shemlen word to confuse me?" It was not a good idea to have made up a new word and told the herald because he was suspicious of every new 'shemlen' word that came out of their mouths now.

"No it's a real-" Dorian was cut off by the relieved voice of a exhausted looking soldier.

"Herald! We've been looking for you." The soldier looked as if he wanted to say something else, (probably between the lines, 'where in Thedas were you, Herald?) but he went with his assigned message instead. "You are urgently wanted in the chantry."

A sigh escaped the elf's pink lips, "Soldier, would you take the ram to the kitchen for me?" The soldier didn't seem happy about the politely given order, but he took on the heavy weight of the ram and walked with trouble keeping his balance. Dorian really wondered how the stick thin elf carried that weight for so long, but that though was interrupted by the tattooed elf speaking.

"Thank you for the company and carrying my rabbits, I can take them now," Dorian passed the bloody animals to the Heralds willing hands, "If Cassandra doesn't skin me alive for my hunt, I may bring you some rabbit, perhaps you will complain less about my cooking."

"Maybe I would complain more."

"You might make me cry."

"I can hear the gossip! 'Big mean magister makes the Herald of Andraste cry and is chased out of Thedus!'"

"Then don't make me cry," the elf gave another roguish grin; Dorian liked the elf much better when he wasn't hiding behind a false smile. Even though that kind of made him a bit of a hypocrite. 

Dorian always had to have the last word, "It's a date." The Tevinter Mage watched as the smile faded and became strained as the Dalish neared the chantry. It was strange seeing a wild beast return to it's cage.


End file.
